


pretty lady

by palalabu



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 14:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5130956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palalabu/pseuds/palalabu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Jongdae shouldn’t be shocked when he comes home from a three days long business trip to find Zitao, and again with Baekhyun, having an afternoon tea, in drag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pretty lady

Jongdae have had his fair share of stepping through his front door and finding his boyfriend surprised him with something mild and cute, like Zitao and their mutual friend Baekhyun having semi-naked karaoke session in their living room, to something more hard stopping, like their living room filled with shopping bags and their joint credit card, on top of Zitao’s own, being maxed out. So in retrospect, maybe Jongdae shouldn’t be shocked when he comes home from a three days long business trip to find Zitao, and again with Baekhyun, having an afternoon tea, in drag. Dresses, wigs, make up, the whole nine yards.

He feels so dumbfounded that all he could do is standing in the doorway, staring at the two, before finally Zitao realises his presence and stops talking mid-sentence to address him with tentative smile. 

“You’re back.”

His words divert Baekhyun’s attention from him to Jongdae who is now slowly stepping into the room in daze. “Why are you looking like that?” Baekhyun is grinning and Jongdae can’t believe his best friend is half laughing when he asks that. 

“Why are _you_ looking like that?” he returns the question. 

In whole 5 years he’s been together with Zitao, knowing him even longer, and almost all his life growing up with Baekhyun, never once he’d thought the two have the inclination to dress up as women. So yeah, he must’ve looked stupid right now, but really is he the one to blame?

“Just,” Baekhyun shrugs, the ringlets of his blonde wig fall off his bare shoulder, “thought I’d spice things up with Chanyeol, and ask Zitao to do it with me while I’m at it.”

“Ask?” Zitao laughs, “You practically dragged me to the store to buy the dress with you.”

“And you go along with my plan because you know you’d look so gorgeous. Doesn’t he look pretty with his dress Jongdae?” He gives Jongdae a knowing look.

So this time Jongdae finally take a really good look on his boyfriend. And Zitao is different from Baekhyun who is attention grabbing with his bright red, body-hugging strapless dress and his flirty blonde wig. Zitao has long black hair, with straight bangs, and he’s wearing silky black dress. It’s plain, makes him look younger than his real age. Especially when he sends Jongdae a shy smile with curious expression, still waiting for his answer.

“Do I look pretty?” And the way Zitao looks up at him, looking for his approval, as if he chose to dress up as a girl only to please Jongdae, doesn’t really give the older man other option for an answer.

Jongdae strides across the room to plant a kiss on Zitao’s lips and tells him that of course he is. There’s never a moment when Jongdae thinks Zitao isn’t gorgeous. From the second Baekhyun introduced him to the younger man, Jongdae thought that _‘fuck. he’s so hot. must find a way to get into his pants’_. And Zitao turns out to be more than just 180-something-cm sex on legs. He has adorable smile that betraying his threatening physique. He’s extravagant, yet at the same time insecure. And it’s not that Jongdae missed the fact that Zitao could be shy, young, and feminine, but this whole ensemble highlighting those qualities that Jongdae could only glimpse at on regular basis. 

Zitao is pretty, that one thing is sure, but not in the way that Baekhyun is sexy and could probably turns every head to stare at him the moment he steps into a room. Zitao, dressing up like a girl, surprisingly looks like an equivalent of a beautiful girl next door. And Jongdae can’t take his eyes off of him. From the way his pink colored lips curled into a soft smile, the way he gently pulls up the strap of his dress that has fell over his shoulder. All the small details that are so captivating and unravelling a whole new side of Zitao that Jongdae has never seen before. 

Zitao laughs at something that Baekhyun said before resting his hand on top of Jongdae’s knee just for the sake of touching, but effectively pulling Jongdae from his own thought. And Jongdae watches Zitao, his dress rides up higher on his thighs as he crosses one leg over the other. His smooth shaven legs. 

Jongdae can feel his blood rushes south that second he realizes that Zitao probably takes it farther than just dress and make up, and Jongdae wants to see more of that. He wants to run his finger along Zitao’s smooth thighs, wants pull away his long hair so he could trail kisses on his bare shoulder, wants to smear the lipstick on his lips. 

“Oh my god,” Baekhyun dramatically sighs. “I better just leave you two alone.” And when Zitao makes a confused sound, he elaborates. “Your boyfriend looks like he can’t wait to devour you.”

Zitao turns to look at Jongdae with raised eyebrows, and Baekhyun looks like he expects Jongdae to explain himself. But Jongdae just stares back at the two and smirks, can’t even deny the accusation. He even had a half mind to tell Baekhyun to go home, before the older man finally took the hint himself. 

They walk Baekhyun to the front door, and he and Zitao make a promise to meet again sometime that same week. Then Baekhyun turns to Jongdae and hugs him. But after he pulls away, he pats on Jongdae’s cheek and tells him, “You thank me later, kay.”

They watch Baekhyun puts on his shoes, a pair of red high heels that matches his dress, and bids his final goodbye before closing the door behind him, leaving the two finally alone. And suddenly Zitao feels incredibly awkward. 

He knows he probably shouldn’t have welcomed Jongdae home with such surprise. But he couldn’t help himself. The first time he tried a dress at the store where Baekhyun dragged him into, he thinks he looks pretty. And his second thought was to show it to Jongdae. But Jongdae has been quiet the whole time, it’s really unnerving. 

Zitao turns to his boyfriend, trying to explain to him why he’s coming home to find Zitao in drag. But just as he opens his mouth, Zitao finds himself being shoved against the wall and Jongdae pressing hard against him. His strong fingers are slithering up Zitao’s thighs and slowly inching closer to the hem of his dress. Jongdae kisses him hard and hungry, wants to taste all of Zitao, licking his way in, sucking on his tongue, smearing his pink lipstick. 

“Fuck, Zitao.” Jongdae stares at his work, at the now stained make up around Zitao’s mouth. “You look so fucking gorgeous,” the shorter man groans, mouthing against Zitao’s jaw, and Zitao can feel his half hard cock pressing against his crotch.

Jongdae leaves wet, open mouthed kisses along Zitao’s jaw, down his neck, biting the base of it before nosing along his shoulder and pushing off the tiny strap of Zitao’s dress, exposing more skin for him to explore. He hums against Zitao’s skin. “Don’t even have to strip you.” 

Zitao sighs as Jongdae trails little nibbles across his chest, sucking on the now fading mark he left days ago. Then Jongdae does the same to the other strap that the dress hangs low on Zitao’s upper arm, exposing his erect nipples. And Jongdae smiles at that, his fingers rubbing Zitao’s thigh even more excited now.  
“Yeah, definitely love this,” he says before taking one of the pinkish buds into his mouth, drawing moan from Zitao who can’t stop himself from arching his back. 

But Jongdae pushes him back and starts to grind his cock against Zitao’s to keep him pinned against the wall. “Jongdae,” Zitao whines when Jongdae rocks against him particularly hard. The smooth silk feels delicious rubbing against his hot, hard cock that he’s leaking precum in no time, staining his black dress with obvious spot. 

“Shit,” Jongdae curses the second he pulls away from Zitao’s now abused nipple, finally realizing the tenting under Zitao’s dress, the dark spot. “You’re not wearing anything under there, are you.” He’s not asking because he already knows. But still he grinds hard and sucks hard on the dip between Zitao’s collarbones, “Hm?” demanding answer.

“I don’t.” And Jongdae doesn’t miss the way Zitao’s lips curl with pride as he admits the fact. “You can see the lines. It’s not pretty.”

Jongdae can’t help but to chuckle as he nuzzle his way up from Zitao’s clavicle, to his adam’s apple, then stops and rewards a kiss right under Zitao’s chin. “Of course you’d forego functionality for aesthetic,” he mutters against the skin knowingly. “Did you keep your legs cross like a real lady when Baek’s around? Keeping him from seeing anything he shouldn’t see.” 

Zitao nods, can’t forming a verbal answer when Jongdae starts to change gear and grinds against his dick slowly instead, almost excruciatingly so.

“Even shaving your legs,” the older man marvels as his thumbs rubbing teasing circles on Zitao’s inner thighs. “Your under arms.” He looks up to stare at Zitao with his deceptively innocent face. “Makes me wonder if you’re shaved anywhere else.” 

Zitao breathes harder, because even though he enjoyed grooming himself, even though he likes how he looks, he’s not sure if his boyfriend would love it. And Jongdae’s approval is paramount for him. Because he’s not just doing it for himself, he’s doing it for Jongdae to enjoy. 

“Why don’t you see it yourself,” he dares the older man. 

He knows Jongdae’s been itching to hike up his dress, to see what’s under the short garment. The tension feels almost too much that it seems like the time stops and they can only hear their panted breaths as Jongdae pushes the hem of Zitao’s silky dress up, past his thighs, his hip, finally revealing his smooth, hairless erect cock. And the way Jongdae’s stares at with intensity pins Zitao on his spot. His heart races, he can’t read the older man’s expression. 

“Do you like it?” he finally asks, barely above whisper. 

And Jongdae laughs, incredulous. “Do I like it?” he asks in return before pressing in for a kiss. When he pulls back to look into Zitao’s eyes, the taller man can’t miss how dark, how dilated Jongdae’s eyes are, how turned on he is that Zitao almost whimpers just from that one look. “Do I like it?” Jongdae repeats, stepping impossibly closer and flushing their bodies against each other as he whispers into Zitao’s ears. “I’ve never wanted to suck you off this bad, Taozi.”

Zitao bucks his hips. He can’t help it. The nickname, Jongdae only uses that when he’s feeling especially fond at Zitao, or at something that he did. And right now, apparently, it’s because he puts on a dress and makes sure his body is hairless. Like an innocent girl next door, Jongdae tells him as he alternates between latching on Zitao’s dangling earring and licking the shell of Zitao’s ear. 

Jongdae’s hand wanders to palm Zitao’s leaking cock, pressing along the underside until he can cup Zitao’s balls in his hand, making the younger man writhes against the wall, knees almost failing him. “So smooth,” Jongdae praises, “So pretty.” He watches as Zitao squirms when he strokes his balls, trying out the hairless skin. And judging from the shameless, unrestrained moans Zitao lets out, Jongdae knows he’s not the only one amazed by this new sensation. 

“Jongdae, please.” Zitao tilts his head and sweeps down to catch Jongdae’s lips in a kiss. Which he probably shouldn’t do if he wanted Jongdae’s mouth on his cock. But Jongdae’s been teasing him, tugging on his earring, nosing along Zitao’s jaw, but never really kisses him. And Zitao needs Jongdae’s mouth on his. 

Zitao parts his lips even before Jongdae asks for permission, just as easy as he hooking up one of his legs around Jongdae’s hip when all Jongdae do is placing his hand under Zitao’s thigh. Opening himself for Jongdae is never a chore for Zitao. He displays himself for Jongdae to take. The grooming, the dressing up, the make-up, big part of it is for Jongdae as much as it is for Zitao. And Jongdae knows that. Knows Zitao enough that he trails his hand lower, teasing around Zitao’s entrance before slipping a finger inside, only half surprised to find out he could push through the rings of muscles with barely any resistance. 

He only has one finger up to his first knuckle inside, yet Zitao’s panting with his pretty, puffy, pink lips. “Already prepped nicely for me,” Jongdae muses and rewards his younger boyfriend with another finger that has Zitao keens and arches his body prettily. 

Zitao grabs Jongdae’s arms for support. He’s trembling now. Jongdae tries to scissor him dry, trying to see how wide he could stretch Zitao without lube, knowing it’s almost too painful, knowing Zitao would endure the burn because he wants to be good for Jongdae. Because he likes it, being fucked open improperly. 

Jongdae gets one thing all wrong though. “I didn’t.” At Jongdae’s raised eyebrow, Zitao elaborates. “Didn’t prep myself.”

Now Jongdae frowns, pushing his fingers deeper, because Zitao’s body says otherwise. He’s so ready, Jongdae is sure he could take more than his two fingers easily. And that’s when it hits him. 

“Fuck. Of course you don’t.” He cracks a smile before kissing Zitao so hard his head thud against the wall behind him. His kiss is deep and searing, Jongdae just wants all of him. “Why would you, right?” As he expected, his third finger slips in so, so easily. And Zitao rocks himself on Jongdae’s fingers, almost desperately for someone who’s fucked without lube. “Why would you prep yourself when you love it when I’m the one stretching you open. When you love it when I’m around to watch. Right?” Jongdae can feel Zitao grips his arms tighter. But he’s smiling against Jongdae’s lips, obviously proud of himself. “You actually just fucked yourself, didn’t you?” Zitao replies him with a whine, confirming but also demanding for Jongdae to get back and kiss him. But Jongdae pulls away instead. “In this dress? Please, tell me you fuck yourself in this dress.”

“God! Yes! in this dress.” Now he’s flailing, trying to push Jongdae to kneel yet wanting to pull him closer. “Jongdae, please, just…”

Jongdae smiles at him, tucking his long hair behind his ears. “Okay,” he tells him as he puts Zitao’s leg down before slowly he gets on his knees. “But you have to tell me everything about it.”

And between Jongdae taking his head into his mouth and his fingers stretching him open, Zitao loses all trains of thought. It’s just waves of pleasure, trying to buck his hips forward, fucking deeper into Jongdae’s mouth, then move back hard, fucking himself on Jongdae’s fingers. His legs are trembling and if it wasn’t for Jongdae’s hand on his waist, trying to keep his dress in place, and inadvertently supporting him, Zitao’s not sure he’d still be standing. 

Jongdae trails kisses along the underside of Zitao’s dick, so hard and red and pretty. When Zitao moans and grabs the back of his head, telling him to stop teasing, he knows Zitao’s forgotten about the one thing he asked him to do. So he looks up at the younger man, pulling his fingers out and catching Zitao’s surprised stare. Then against Zitao’s hard and red and pretty dick, he told him, “Talk.”

The vibration against his hypersensitive skin sending delicious sensation along his cock, his spine, that Zitao can’t help buck up his hip, his back arching against the wall, toes curling under. He can’t think, let alone to talk. But Jongdae’s lips start moving away from his dick and Zitao can’t afford that. Not when those lips look so red and puffy and Zitao wants to fuck that mouth so, so bad. 

“Baekhyun hyung came,” he starts, closing his eyes when Jongdae brings his lips back to kiss his cock. He sighs in relieve as two fingers pushing back inside him in shallow thrusts. And for a short moment, he just lets himself reveling in Jongdae’s warm, wet mouth alternating between kissing and lapping on his now leaking member. But then Jongdae groans, reminding him what he’s supposed to do to earn this blow job. “He told me to put on the dress I bought…” Zitao gasps, almost toppling over because Jongdae’s taking almost his whole length in one go, then hollowing his cheeks around Zitao before Zitao can even make sense of what’s Jongdae is doing. 

“Hmm?” Jongdae encourages. 

Zitao can feel the hums reverberate along his dick in Jongdae’s mouth, through his spine, and the heat pooling on his stomach is almost unbearable. He has to clench on Jongdae’s shirt to keep himself from coming too fast. “I put it on and look myself in the mirror…,” he whispers through gritted teeth and Jongdae is slipping his two fingers deeper in one go and the dry friction is hurting Zitao so good he keens and curses Jongdae’s name. His hands are clutching on Jongdae’s hair, trying to keep him in place, trying to make him take his cock deeper. And Jongdae keeps sucking on him hard, keeps pumping the part where he can’t reach with his mouth and Zitao needs to come so bad. “I thought I look hot,” Zitao keeps talking, knowing Jongdae would only let him come if he kept on talking. “I thought you’d like this. And I start touching myself fuck! Jongdae fuck!” Jongdae’s taking him all the way to his base. Zitao can feel him almost gag, can feel his throat flutters around his head. But Jongdae stays there, deep throating Zitao, with his fingers still thrusting into him slowly. He hums around Zitao, telling him to continue his story. 

“I…,” Zitao’s breath stutters, and his legs threatening to collapse, but Jongdae’s persistent. He keeps sucking on him hard. And Zitao can’t afford to lose that. “I lay on our bed. I could see myself in the mirror and I spread my legs, thinking you’re blowing me like this. Or eat me out.” 

Jongdae groans, and he lets Zitao thrust hard into his mouth. He’d like that, he’d like having Zitao on their bed, spread his legs wider for him, hiking his dress up to reveal proud erect cock while he’s having his tongue up in Zitao’s ass, licking his inside clean and Zitao would sob, begging for him to just actually fuck him already. Shit. Jongdae would love that. But there’s time and place for everything. And right now it’s about making his boyfriend come in his mouth. 

He knows Zitao’s close, if the way he thrust himself faster and faster is any indication. Jongdae watches as Zitao scrunches up his face when Jongdae smoothly slips another finger inside him. Zitao shuts his eyes open, stained lips slacks, and he watches Jongdae watching him. And Jongdae knows he likes what he’s seeing. Jongdae on his knees, peering up at him with his long lashes, with his puffed up lips around his cock. Jongdae knows Zitao desperately wants to fuck him now. 

“Jongdae, please…”

And Jongdae lets him, lets Zitao grabs him by his head, keeping him in place. He lets Zitao having his way with his mouth. He coaxes him closer and closer into his climax as he hollow his cheeks around Zitao’s cock, the head is leaking precum and Jongdae can taste it in the back of his throat. He lets Zitao’s bucks sharp and hard when his fingers start to scissor him, pushing through his ring of muscles, stretch him open. Zitao picks up his pace, and his rhythm falters, his controls lost. He starts fucking too hard and too deep into Jongdae’s mouth and Jongdae’s eyes start to sting and waters and he has drool all over his chin. Yet he still lets Zitao fucks into the tight channel of his mouth.

“Jongdae, I’m—.”

He tries to warn him, tries to pull his dick out. But Jongdae chases him instead, taking his whole length. His nose pressed against the silky fabric of Zitao’s dress as Zitao shoots his cum down his throat. Zitao can feel Jongdae’s struggle to swallow his cum, can see the white liquid dripping down his chin, and yet he’s still sucking on his dick, letting Zitao rides his orgasm, taking Zitao’s stuttered thrusts. And he’s just so in love with Jongdae and how he looks at him, watching him, making sure Zitao’s taken care of and satisfied and sucked dry. 

When Jongdae’s finally pulls away, there’s a string of mix Zitao’s cum and his saliva between his mouth and Zitao’s cock. And Jongdae chuckles at it, wipes it from his lips with the back of his hand, along with whatever liquid slobbering his chin. Finally he lets Zitao’s dress fall around his thigh and he stands up. He rolls the straps of the dress up and settles the thin piece of fabrics on Zitao’s shoulder, fixing his boyfriend up, knowing he can’t do it for himself, too sated and happy and comfortable to move. 

“That was hot,” Jongdae murmurs against Zitao’s lips before pressing his lips, his firm body against Zitao’s limp one. And Zitao can taste himself in Jongdae’s mouth, bitter, mixes whatever Jongdae had for dinner on the plane earlier. 

Jongdae licks his way in and lets Zitao to suck on his tongue, pulling him closer by his waist. Then Jongdae pulls away for air, before reaching up for another deep searing kiss. His ‘I’m home’ kiss. And he can feel Zitao sighs into the kiss, reacquaints himself with Jongdae’s body as his hands start to wander up along his back and down to squeeze his ass. Zitao did say Jongdae’s ass always looks amazing under his fitted dress pants. 

“Bedroom.” Jongdae hums as he presses his still hard cock against Zitao, demanding attention. 

Zitao pulls him back for another quick kiss. “I was thinking more like the couch.” And the slow curls of Jongdae’s lips have never looked more satisfying.

Zitao lets himself being led to the couch. And Jongdae settles himself down after he takes out a bottle of lube they stashed in the drawer of the side table. They’ve learned, only after a few days of living together, that it’s a good thing to keep a bottle in every room. 

Jongdae’s slouching on their big, comfy couch, legs spread, and he pats on his thigh in silent request for Zitao to sit there. It’s ridiculous how obvious his erection is. His pants is so tented that Zitao can’t help but laughing at him.

“It’s your fault,” Jongdae whines as he pulls Zitao closer, letting his younger boyfriend to kneel over him, straddling him. 

Zitao sits himself firmly on Jongdae’s lap, dress pooling around his hip, his crotch against Jongdae’s hard one. “How is it my fault again?” And half deliberately rubs himself up, and Jongdae lets out a throaty moan, head leans back, exposing his throat. “You’re the one who thinks it’s a great idea to blow me.” Jongdae’s neck is warm and taut under his lips “When we could’ve just gone straight to fucking.” And his scent, after a day’s work and travel, Zitao misses it, hungry for it, that he can’t stop himself from trailing his lips along Jongdae’s throat, nibbling under his jaw. 

“It’s just…” Jongdae attempts to argue, but the way Zitao keeps grinding himself against Jongdae really doesn’t help Jongdae’s thought process. “It’s just is,” comes his lame excuse.

“Right,” Zitao grins, amused, “It’s my fault that you think I’m hot.” His deft fingers go straight to Jongdae’s pants, unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping the garments with ease, before slipping a hand covered with lube inside.

“So fucking hot.” Jongdae cups the back of Zitao’s neck and pulls him for a kiss. He kisses him open mouthed, slow, languid. In contrast with Zitao who’s trying to devour him, and his hands that hastily coating Jongdae’s cock with lube. “Impatient,” he tells his boyfriend. 

“Haven’t had your cock in me for days, remember?” 

“I know,” Jongdae smiles at him. “But can I just…” Zitao’s long hair framing them as he leans his forehead against Jongdae. The straps of his dress already fall off his shoulders again. Jongdae tucks Zitao’s hair behind his ear, so he can see his face clearly. His other hand already stroking on Zitao’s smooth, strong thigh that’s pinning him against the couch. “Can I just savor you when you look this… this gorgeous.” 

And Jongdae is looking at him with such adoration and love, that Zitao feels his heart beat just a little faster, that the butterflies are fluttering in his stomach. It’s almost silly for him to feel like this just because of that one look from Jongdae. But he knows, it’s that one look that he can never say no to. 

So Zitao leans in, letting Jongdae to kiss him slowly. Letting him stroking his way up Zitao’s thigh, to cup the globe his ass, squeezing his plump flesh. He knows, Jongdae wants to feel him up just as much as Zitao wants to feel Jongdae inside him. So when Jongdae finally guides him to get rid off his pants, Zitao’s more than willing to help.

He kneels with Jongdae between his legs. One hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder, and the other pulling up his dress to keep it from blocking his hole, displaying his erect cock. He aligns himself, and looks at Jongdae in the eyes, silently asking if it’s okay for him to fuck himself on Jongdae’s cock. And when his older boyfriend nods his approval, Zitao slowly sinks himself, taking Jongdae inch by inch. 

It feels amazing. After days not even seeing each other, Jongdae has to grip on the back of Zitao’s dress just to keep himself to buck himself into the hot, tight channel that sheaths him perfectly. And Zitao is so beautiful as he watches him slowly sits himself on Jongdae’s lap, with the concentrated look on his face, carefully letting himself get used to Jongdae’s girth. Watches him purses his lips. His head tilts back, displaying his neck. His long black hair sticks against his sweaty skin. He’s so, so pretty, Jongdae can’t look away, won’t look away even when the delicious heat around his dick threaten him to just roll and shut his eyes.

“Good?” Zitao asks once he fully seated on Jongdae’s lap, leaning his forehead against him. His words brushing against Jongdae’s lips. 

“Perfect.”

Jongdae leans in to latch his lips on Zitao’s neck, wanting to taste his skin, his sweat, Jongdae’s perfume that he knows Zitao always put on whenever he misses him. And he unintentionally rocks them, causing the both of them to simultaneously moan. 

“Jongdae,” Zitao warns him. He grips on Jongdae’s shoulder tighter. Jongdae’s bigger than the three fingers he used on himself earlier and he definitely needs some time to get himself to get used to it.

“Sorry.” Jongdae kisses his way through his apology. “Miss you so much,” he confesses in between sucking a mark on Zitao’s neck. “Don’t think can last long.”

Zitao’s quiet laugh is muffled with Jongdae’s hair. “Me too.” So he starts moving, lifting himself up, letting Jongdae’s lips to drag along his neck, before slowly letting himself down again.

The thrusts are shallow and slow. But that’s what Jongdae asked from him, that’s how Jongdae runs his palm along Zitao’s thighs and slipping under his dress, to push the black fabric up his hips so he can watch Zitao’s cock curving, flapping against his abs as he fuck himself on Jongdae’s cock. His precum already staining the dress. 

Zitao has one hand on Jongdae’s shoulder and the other palming his boyfriend’s chest for balance. And Jongdae’s hands are on his waist, helping Zitao keeps himself upright as he bounces himself on Jongdae’s lap, lifting himself up almost completely, with only the head inside him, before sitting down and taking the whole length. He feels so full, after days of just his own fingers or toys, finally having Jongdae again, hard and pulsing inside him, it feels amazing. And Zitao wants more. Wants Jongdae to hit his spot and making him come so hard, that he’d clench Jongdae so hard he’d come himself and fill Zitao with his cum. 

Just the thought makes Zitao moan. The sound bouncing of the walls of their living room accompanied by the sound of his ass slapping against Jongdae’s thighs, his balls. And Jongdae is quiet, just watching Zitao rocking himself on his lap, desperately trying to angle Jongdae’s cock inside him to hit his spot just right. Just watching every gasp, every sighs Zitao makes like he’s never seen him before. Like he’s mesmerized just by the sight of Zitao with his hair sticking to his forehead, his neck, his dirty dress hanging precariously on his body. 

“You’re quiet,” Zitao finally comments, “Almost miss your dirty talk.”

“Almost?” Jongdae teases as he pulls Zitao closer, knowing his dirty talk alone could make Zitao so hard he’s begging for Jongdae to let him come. 

Jongdae rocks his hips with his cock still buried inside Zitao’s body, trying to find his prostate. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispers against Zitao’s jaw, mouthing down his neck, sucking on his clavicle and almost bending Zitao backward with his weight. “Don’t know if I want to just watch you,” he bites on the soft skin on the crook of Zitao’s shoulder, “or fucking you hard.” 

Jongdae ends his words with a hard thrust to prove his point and Zitao chokes a scream and he trembles in Jongdae’s hold. Zitao cups Jongdae’s face and pulls him to crush their lips together. “There,” he gasps into Jongde’s mouth, “Fuck me hard there,” as he pushes himself down to meet each of Jongdae’s thrusts. 

It’s easy to fall into the rhythm that Jongdae sets for him. With his hands on Zitao’s waist, guiding him, telling him when pull himself up and then pushing down so Jongdae can hit his spot just right, shooting him with pleasure along his spine, pooling the heat in his lower belly. There’s a sense of urgency in the way Jongdae kisses him, their teeth clashing against each other’s. Jongdae is sucking on Zitao’s lower lip. And as he thrusts into Zitao faster and deeper, their lip just brushing against each other in loose open mouthed kisses. Their breaths panted into each other’s mouths, alternating with Jongdae’s praising how tight and hot Zitao is around him, and how bad he wants to just shoot his cum inside Zitao, fill him up and watch it dripping down his ass. And Zitao almost cry in desperation because yes, please please please he wants it so bad. He takes one of Jongdae’s hands to his cock in silent request for him to just jerk him and help him come. 

Jongdae’s fingers are firm around Zitao’s cock. Each time he pushes himself down, Jongdae meets him halfway, thrusting into him, hitting his prostate, making his precum dripping profusely from his head. And when he lifts himself up, his cock fucks into the tight channel of Jongdae’s hand, jerking him closer and closer to his climax. 

“Shit. Jongdae. I’m close.” Zitao can feel his orgasm building up inside him. His balls are so tight, he swears he just needs Jongdae to tip him over the edge and he’d spill all of his come. 

And he can feel Jongdae’s hand moving from his waist, running against the silky fabric of his dress, before sliding under to cup Zitao’s ass. Then without warning, right when Zitao push himself down, Jongdae slips just one finger along with his cock inside Zitao, stretching him to his limit, making him ridiculously full. And before he knows it, he chokes on his breath, digging his nails into Jongdae’s skin, and Zitao is spilling his white come all over his dress. He can’t even move, can’t think of anything other than Jongdae’s hand on his cock, milking him dry, groaning and cursing into his ear because Zitao is squeezing him so hard right now and he can’t wait to properly fuck him. 

Jongdae rolls them so he can lay Zitao on the couch with him on top. And Zitao is still coming down from his climax, still pliant, panting, and looking so gorgeous with his long black hair fanning against the white couch. Jongdae can’t help but to moan against his damp skin as he pulls Zitao’s leg around his waist. He grabs the arm of the couch over Zitao’s head to give himself purchase before he picks up his pace and fucks his way into Zitao’s tight, clenching hole. 

The sound of the couch squeaking against the floor, and skin slapping against skin, and how Jongdae rocks their body seems to sober Zitao up. He cups Jongdae’s face and traces fleeting kisses along his jaw, his cheekbone, so gentle and in contrast with Jongdae’s desperate attempt to chase his orgasm. He whispers against Jongdae’s lips, coaxing him to come inside him. And Jongdae can feel Zitao very deliberately clenching his ass even tighter around Jongdae’s cock that his hips stutter, eyes shut closed. Jongdae comes, hard, forgetting to breath and almost collapsing on top of his boyfriend. 

Zitao moans when he feels Jongdae shooting his hot cum inside him. He rubs Jongdae’s clothed back, letting him ride his orgasm as he runs his other hand through Jongdae’s hair and pulls him into a proper kiss. Zitao licks Jongdae’s lips open and slips his tongue, stroking against Jongdae’s in sync with his shallow thrusts until Jongdae is soft inside him, pulls away and unceremoniously dropping his whole weight on Zitao. 

“Fuck, Taozi,” he weakly mutters into Zitao’s chest. “You’re not allowed to wear pants ever again.”

Zitao laughs hard, shaking his limp boyfriend on top of him. He rolls them to lie on their side so they could face each other. “You like it that much, hm?” he pecks Jongdae lips, “Oppa.”

But Jongdae abruptly pulls away and frowns at him. “What did you call me?”

“Oppa,” Zitao replies with mischievous glint in his eyes. “You got so turned on seeing me in drag, don’t you.”

“No,” Jongdae denies, and Zitao raises his eyebrow because they did just have a mind blowing sex so what’s the point in lying, really. “I mean, yeah, you in a dress got me turned on. But doesn’t mean I wanna fuck a girl.” When Zitao sends him a confused look, Jongdae smiles and kisses him deep, leaving him breathless and for a moment, forgets about everything else that is not Jongdae’s lips on his. 

Jongdae breaks the kiss but rest his forehead against Zitao, their face mere inch from each other’s. He peels Zitao’s fake hair off his sweaty skin and tuck it behind his ear. Jongdae cups Zitao’s face and brushes his thumb along his cheekbone. His eyes on Zitao, staring at him with a look that turns Zitao into a shy, chaste teenager in front of his first love. And it’s embarrassing how Zitao could feel the blush rising to his cheeks. 

“ _You_ got me turned on,” Jongdae breathes against Zitao’s lips, “because _you_ look so pretty like this, Taozi.”

As if to prove his point, Jongdae takes Zitao’s upper lip into his mouth, nibbles on the sensitive skin as he tangles his fingers down Zitao’s long hair, his bare shoulder, his silk covered waist, worshiping Zitao’s body with the palm of his hand as he slides his thigh between Zitao’s to bring their body closer. 

Zitao loses track on how long they’re just lying there, kissing, sighing into each other’s mouth, mapping each other’s bodies as Zitao slips his own hand under Jongdae’s dress shirt to stroke his bare skin, feel his muscles contract and relaxing under Zitao’s palm as they slowly grind against each other.  
xxx

 

Zitao’s skin is still damp with warmth from his shower as he pads, naked, into their bedroom to find Jongdae sits on the foot of their bed, waiting for him. It’s part of their ritual now. And it would be a lie if he said he doesn’t enjoy having his boyfriend witnessing his transformation.

The first one is always the wig. He still only owns that one long straight black wig. Never needs another one because Jongdae love him the most in it. They’ve tried other styles, but Jongdae said this one brings out Zitao’s inner innocent that usually hidden under his leather jackets, tight pants and crazy colored hair. And the funny thing is, Zitao’s not fussy with his wig as he is with his real hair, so he just agrees with him.

As Zitao sets the wig on his head, brushes the long hair gently, Jongdae feels that peculiar attraction settles inside him. Having a whole different person standing before him would probably makes Jongdae lost any interest. But Zitao with his wig, his dress, his make up, is not a different person. It’s still Zitao, he just brings out another part of him that no one usually sees. And Jongdae loves watching him carefully putting on the ensemble as much as he loves unraveling the whole thing to see his Zitao again.

It always amazes him how much of his boyfriend’s femininity that he fails to notice and only realises once he stands naked in front of him with a long hair caressing his back. How delicate he looks as he pulls out a pair of pink lace panties from his drawer, slipping one foot after another and pulls it up along his smooth, slender legs. The fabric hugs his butt cheeks like a glove, his flaccid cock tucked snuggly against the almost see through garment. It’s Zitao’s favorite, Jongdae remembers his boyfriend told him once. 

No one could miss how Zitao’s eyes light up whenever he has to arrange his outfit. His lips even curls into a small, cute smile as he studies his dress collection. And it’s a small collection. Jongdae thinks he probably only has one or two, but there’s five. A new addition just came the other day, and Zitao chooses all of the dresses himself. He lets Jongdae pays for it though, as his stamp of approval, because Zitao insists it should be their thing as a couple, but never trusts him enough to actually picks anything for him. Zitao’s the one working in a fashion magazine anyway. 

His decision falls to a white, sleeveless floral dress. It’s flirty, it fits the season. He had only worn it once when they had a dinner date at home, and Jongdae almost ruin it with his wine when Zitao caught him off guard and sat on his lap, jostling the glass he still had on his hand. 

“Jongdae,” Zitao pulls the older man out of his reverie, “zip me up?” he asks with his back facing Jongdae, long hair drapes over one shoulder to keep it from getting stuck on the zipper. 

And this is the only time during the whole process that Zitao addresses Jongdae, acknowledging his existence in that room with him. Because as much as he’s putting on a show for him, as much as he’s doing it also for Jongdae, it’s also something very personal for Zitao. And he likes being caught up in his own thought of making himself looking presentable (beautiful, pretty, lovely, gorgeous, Jongdae always insists).

Jongdae stands less than a step away behind Zitao, holding the dress with one hand as his other one closes the zipper. And he likes to linger there, smoothing the back of Zitao’s dress, holding him by his hip, breathing his scent. Watching Zitao watching him from the mirror in front of them, expecting. Jongdae always wants to say something, to compliment him. But he always feels like he already exhausted his vocabulary just to express how perfect Zitao is in his eyes. And a mere ‘I love you’ is never enough. So he finally settles with a kiss, tip toeing to reach Zitao’s nape. And another one on his shoulder. 

He walks backward, never wants to lose sight of his lovely boyfriend. But sits back quietly on his spot, knowing he’s not needed anymore as Zitao starts to put on the base of his make up. And he never really needs much, Jongdae knows that. Nothing to cover because Zitao has unblemished skin as a result of strict skincare regime he enforces on himself. And he has striking features that doesn’t need much to bring out. Thin eyeliners and mascara are usually enough to compliment his feline eyes. Just a touch of blush for his high cheekbones. And a coral colored lipstick on his pouty lips.

“I probably need to buy another color, right?” he turns around to ask Jongdae. Although, he obviously doesn’t actually expect an answer as he returns to his mirror just as quickly. “It’s boring always wearing the same color, right?”

And Jongdae hums his reply since he thinks it doesn’t really matter anyway. Any color would look great once he smears it with his kiss.

“Okay.” Zitao stands up after putting on his white flower earrings. He walks to their wardrobes and grabs a quilted Chanel sling bag he hangs on its door handle. It’s a gift from Jongdae, of course, for their anniversary present, which Zitao hinted on heavily for Jongdae to buy. “I’m ready,” he announces, only shorts of twirling as he presents himself to Jongdae. Then he laughs. “And you’re half hard.”

“Also have a half mind to just stay in and have you for dinner instead,” Jongdae tries to suggest, pulling Zitao closer to him. 

“No.” Zitao shakes his head, still grinning in amusement. “We’ve promised them we will actually come to their place this time. You know how much Baek hyung wants to have a double date with us.” And with himself and Zitao in dresses, Jongdae minds supply. That devil. “Oh, come on, Jongdae.” Zitao grabs his hand and, and always the stronger one, forces Jongdae to stand up before dragging him out of their bedroom. “Besides it’s not like you can’t have me after the date.”

Jongdae groans, protesting, albeit weakly. After all Zitao’s right. Baekhyun’s been excited about this double date with them. He has been for a few months now. And Jongdae swears he did always try to go, but it’s just that Zitao’s too pretty in his dresses and the next thing he knows he has his hands and mouth all over Zitao’s body and they had to call and apologize to the other two for canceling their date. 

“Should I just wear my loafers? I think I have a pair that looks… unisex.” Zitao is just muttering to himself, but Jongdae catches on that because it’s weird. He knows Zitao ordered new shoes, a high heels that matches his purse, special for this occasion since it’d be the first time he went out dressing up like a girl. 

“Why?” Jongdae raises an eyebrow. “You have a new one.”

“Yes. But, just…” He watches as Zitao tucks his hair behind his ear, his earrings shining under the light. He shows Jongdae his new shoes. “This adds another 10 cm,” he mumbles.

It’s never been an issue for them. Jongdae doesn’t really care that he’s the shorter, smaller one between the two. And in Zitao’s eyes, he always makes it up with his confident anyway, just from the way he carries himself, never hung up about trivial matters like appearance or height difference. But Zitao’s supposed to be the girl now. And he’s already so much taller than Jongdae. He really does not think he needs the heels now. 

“Taozi,” Jongdae uses his nickname, with a gentle smile that pulls his eyes into two crescents and his lips curls in fondness that he shamelessly shows to Zitao. “Didn’t you say you’re the only one who knows what looks good on you?”

It’s hard for Zitao not to return the smile. “I did say that.”

“Then just wear whichever you like.” Jongdae still has his hand on Zitao’s, so he rubs his thumb against his back, encouraging. And he just silently watches Zitao slips into his high heels.

The shoes indeed do wonders. Zitao feels more confident in it. His posture feels better even when he’s just standing there. But, he’s not sure Jongdae could kiss him even on his tip toe now. 

Jongdae sighs, pulls Zitao lower and meet him halfway for a kiss. “Can’t wait to have everyone stares at me with envy.” 

Zitao laughs, and tells Jongdae he’s not going to ask why because he knows the older man has some cheesy line for an answer. He does however tug Jongdae closer for another kiss. Because it’s empowering, it makes Zitao feels stronger, more than the wig, the dress or the high heels.

**Author's Note:**

> __  
>  a/n: I BLAME [TAO IN DRAG!](http://suchentao.tumblr.com/post/129125567711/uruhaspeach-its-all-i-ever-wanted-tao-you). Also, Jongdae is a self-proclaim pervert, so...  
> 


End file.
